Clarity
by Clare DeTamble
Summary: He's nineteen and he might be a father. He certainly can't grip that." My response to jeytonlover's prompt 'Derek buys a pregnancy test.' Dasey. Complete.


**A/N: **This is my take on jeytonlover's prompt, "Derek buys a pregnancy test." It's slightly AU, as it implies Derek and Kendra's relationship still exists when Derek is 19. It's very corny, as it's written by me. ;)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own "Life With Derek" and I do not intend any copyright infringement. If you're going to sue me, please only sue for nominal damages, because my _God _I am broke. The lyrics are from John Mayer's "Clarity." I don't own that song, either, but I'd love to borrow John for an hour or two...

_"I worry, I weigh three times my body_

_I worry, I throw my fear around"_

It's been 4 minutes and 56 seconds since Kendra told him--no, yelled at him--that she's late. They'd been fighting about something completely stupid (whether Derek should wear his blue shirt or his brown shirt to Kendra's cousin's wedding), and when Derek had huffed and turned to leave the room, Kendra'd screamed at the back of his head that she thought she might be pregnant.

He'd turned around slowly.

"What?" he'd asked in a shaky voice after they'd stared at one another in awkward silence.

"That's--I," Kendra'd stuttered, the inevitable tears starting. "I didn't mean to tell you like that."

He hadn't known what to say, so he'd blinked and started blankly at her. Or, more specifically, he'd stared at the teal wall behind her. He couldn't quite handle the tears in Kendra's eyes nor the expression on her face that clearly meant she was hoping he had all the answers and could make everything better for her.

_Christ_, he'd thought. _That's exactly how a baby would look at me._

The disturbing thought immediately caused his stomach to plummet and then churn. He'd thrown up (twice) and then rushed back into Kendra's bedroom without even bothering to rinse out his mouth.

"Test," he'd rasped, his face pasty and covered in a thin layer of sweat. "Did you take a test?"

She'd shook her head, stifling a sob, and he'd hastily grabbed his keys off of her dresser and headed for the car.

Now he's sitting in the driver's seat, trying to get calm enough to pull out of this spot without damaging his precious car. He's run his hands through his hair so many times that they're greasy and sliding off of the wheel when he tries to grip it. He's nineteen and he might be a father. He certainly can't grip that.

--

It's been 12 minutes and 13 seconds since Derek arrived at the pharmacy. He'd stormed in and passed the aisle with the pregnancy tests four times before an elderly employee directed him to right place. She'd given him a condescending, disapproving look, and he nearly growled at her.

Quickly realizing that he didn't know _anything _about buying pregnancy tests, he'd hastily gathered five of the boxes in his arms and headed for the checkout line.

At the front of the line was a woman who was arguing with the clerk about whether or not the wilted flowers she'd bought two weeks prior could be exchanged for new ones. Derek'd vaguely wondered why someone would even buy flowers from a _pharmacy_, but his train of thought was interrupted by a loud, high-pitched squeal from the blonde behind Wilted Flower Woman.

He was able to register the words "Zac Efron" and "so gorgeous" before his already-sick stomach churned again and he felt a faint throb begin in the back of his head.

The faint throb had only escalated when the curly haired child in front of him started to throw a full-on tantrum--complete with tears, a bellyflop, and pounding fists--over the gum he was apparently not allowed to chew.

"I WANT MY GUM!" he'd screamed.

Derek had tightened his arms, crushing the boxes he was holding.

"GUM! GUM NOW!"

Derek had clenched his teeth together so hard they hurt.

"DADDY! GUM! I. WANT. MY. GUM!"

He's finally gotten to the front of line now. The goddamn man in front of him still hasn't given his son the gum, and he can hear the child carrying on in the parking lot.

The cashier, a short, arrogant-looking, acne-prone teenager wearing too much Axe cologne smirks up at him when he sees the boxes Derek's spilled onto the counter.

"Knocked someone up, huh?" he smirks. "Either she's a bitch or you're a momma's boy, because you look scared as shit."

Derek glares.

"Yep," he nods. "She must a bitch. An ugly bitch."

"Just ring up my fucking stuff."

"You're going to be wishing you'd worn a condom when you've got your kid screaming like that," he nods his head toward the parking lot, "and that whore spending all of your money."

"Just shut the fuck up and tell me how much I owe you."

The clerk gives him a look and smugly asks how he could do both at the same time.

Derek grits his teeth and leans over the counter, glowering down at the teen.

"Listen to me, you fucking jerk-off. I could kick your ass from here to Mexico and I wouldn't feel the slightest bit bad about it. So I suggest you stop trying to be a smart ass and do your fucking job before I fucking kill you."

The kid gives him an oddly familiar-looking smirk in return, and Derek's immediate thought is that he'll never let his kid act like this clerk--act like Derek _himself_.

He chokes and braces himself against the shock that seizes his body and focuses instead on telling himself that he is _not _having a kid. Not now, not with Kendra, _no. No. _

--

It's been 7 minutes and 32 seconds since Kendra finished downing glasses of water and started peeing in cups and on sticks. She'd tried to get Derek to hold her hand and follow her into the bathroom, but he'd fed her some crappy line about limited space and spilled urine, and she'd rolled her eyes and slammed the door in return.

He'd tried to skim through the issue of _People _Kendra had lying on her bedside table, but the pictures of all the celebrity children--God, was _every _famous person in the world currently knocked up or nursing?--made him sick and he'd thrown the magazine against the closet in frustration.

The closet had bounced open slightly and Derek had found himself inspecting the clutter covering every inch of its space.

_Shit_, he'd thought. _I'm a mess and Kendra is one, too. Who's going to keep our kid from becoming Pig Pen?_

Then his mind had started to travel.

_Kendra made me spend 300 when her nephew stayed with her one weekend. I can't say no to Marti, ever. If that test is positive, we're going to have one spoiled fucking brat._

He'd taken a breath and stared at the rug before his mind interrupted him again.

_Fuck. We can barely cook, either. And I don't know a damn thing about chicken pox and band-aids and crap like that._

_Fuck. We are so fucking fucked. _

Now he's facing the door and listening to Kendra's cell phone timers going off, one by one. Four have gone off already and he knows the fifth is about to ring or play Britney Spears or whatever the fuck her phone does. He doesn't think he's ever been more scared than he is in this moment, waiting for the door to open, hoping that this issue is going to be closed.

--

It's been 2 weeks, 3 days, and approximately 5 hours since Derek broke up with Kendra--not that she's counting.

She'd come out of the bathroom and immediately moved to lean against him and cry tears of relief into his shaking shoulder. She'd imagined him exhaling, pressing her to him, kissing her head and whispering about staying with her either way and being more careful in the future.

But she'd barely gotten the words "not pregnant" out before Derek shuffled backwards and turned away from her.

He'd sighed, but it wasn't the relieved sigh she'd expected--it was a tired sigh. He'd briefly scrubbed his face with his hands before turning his head and looking into her eyes.

"I can't do this, Kendra," he'd said, his voice low. "I'm sorry. I can't do this. It's not right. Not with you."

She'd felt her chest tighten unbearably and he'd kissed her hand in apology before standing up and gently closing the door.

She'd spent the next 2 weeks (3 days, and 5 hours) waiting for Derek to come back. She'd figured that, like any other teenage guy, he'd been scared by the sudden reality of commitment. She'd convinced herself that, any day now, she'd find him at her door, looking up at her through his long eyelashes, with flowers behind his back and promises of love and responsibility on his lips.

Now, in the middle of the crowded shopping mall, she, too, is jarred by sudden reality. She can see Derek from where she's standing in the food court, over the barista's head and across from the trendy clothing boutique. In one hand, he's holding Casey's shopping bags. And in the other, he's clasping her fingers.

The words "not with you" race through her head and she races out of the mall, forgetting her frappuccino and her girlish hopes in the process.

--

It's been 1 year, 3 months, and 14 days since that night she'd found Derek at her door, soaked with rainwater and shaking in rhythm with the thunder.

She'd let him in without a word, feeling her heart pound in her chest as she'd worried about the news of a fatality she was sure he was about to share.

"Kendra," he'd choked out, and she'd noticed that he was dripping onto her rug, making the pinks bleed into a dark red. "She--she thought she was pregnant."

Casey'd opened her mouth to respond but Derek'd continued.

"She just took a test and she told me she's not. But, but the whole time I thought she was...," he'd taken a breath. "God, Case, I was so fucking scared."

Casey had nodded, called up her most understanding face and hoped her eyes looked warm.

"No, you don't get it," he'd said. "I wasn't...I wasn't scared about school or my dad killing me or money or anything like that. I wasn't even that scared about a kid."

She'd furrowed her brows, unsure of where he was going.

"It's... Fuck, this is stupid," he'd scoffed at himself. "I was scared that...that there would be no one to look over the kid's homework twenty times a night, or make him chocolate chip pancakes, or yell at him when he leaves his dirty shoes on the kitchen floor. I was scared that there would be no one to teach her how to dance, or show her how to cross her legs, or tell her the difference between guys like me and guys that would treat her right.

I was scared because I couldn't picture myself with Kendra for the rest of my life. I couldn't..."

He'd taken another breath, looking into Casey's eyes, and she'd been shocked at the vulnerability and honesty she'd seen wrapped around the deep brown irises in front of her.

"I couldn't see my future without you. And, that baby, that baby with Kendra...it would have meant losing that chance for good."

She'd felt as though all of the air had suddenly rushed out of her lungs, and so she'd done the only thing she'd thought logical: she'd latched onto Derek's lips and hoped that he would share his.

Now, as she looks down at man kneeling in front of her, holding out a modest ring in his trembling hands, she knows she's ready to share, too. She's ready to share her friendship, her secrets, her life, and her soul with this lazy, reclusive prankster she's happened to fall in love with.

_"But this morning, there's a calm I can't explain_

_The rock candy's melted, only diamonds now remain"_


End file.
